Sivut

June 6, 2007

ANNE'S SIDE OF THE STORY

About three years ago, me and my best friend were inseparable – we had been best friends since 6th grade and knew pretty much anything about each other. Her father passed away from cancer when we were in 7th grade, and I always knew that her life was not as happy and nice as she made everyone believe after that. During 8th grade she started to slip into a bad depression, she was often calling me in the middle of the night to come over, or else she’d commit suicide. I kept supporting her through cutting, drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with her depression, but it started to take its toll on me. I didn’t sleep well, I started drinking and getting frustrated with everyone and everything around me. During the following year, my friend totally excluded herself from the outside world, and didn’t want to see anyone anymore. She started to develop a bad case of anorexia too, as if she didn’t have enough things to struggle with already; during this time she refused to see me too, she didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. I was very hurt although I knew that ‘the depression was talking’, so to say, especially when she started to claim that I had never been there for her and never supported her.

I myself realised that I didn’t have any other real friends, just acquaintances, and I started to develop a depression. I started drinking more, even during schooldays and day time, and started to develop an eating disorder. After a while, I tried to find my peace on internet forums. Through one of these, an English girl – still a good friend of mine – introduced me to My Chemical Romance. At the time my insomnia had gotten really bad, I slept maybe 2 or 3 hours a night and I spent the whole night behind my computer, listening to and reading about these wonderful five men. My dad would scream at me for every little thing I did wrong, ridiculous little things like not putting enough food on his plate would upset him enough to hit me and call me names.

When I listened to Bullets – and later Three Cheers – I felt like all the weight was lifted off my shoulders, like I could talk to them, without talking. If that makes any sense. It felt like opening up about all my problems, like I could breathe more easily again, without actually having to say anything to them. During this time I felt that MCR was pretty much my only safe haven, I listened to them every day, all day long, whenever I got the chance. Their lyrics made me build up my self esteem bit by bit, made me realise that there were worse things in the world than my situation. That we can all overcome our problems, or at least learn to deal with them and try to make as much of life as possible. That we’re not all failures, but that we are all special in our own way, that we all need to stand up for ourselves.

My Chemical Romance did not in any way promote self-harm or suicide to me. They were the ones to make sure that I did not do any of these things, that I did not sink into my depression any deeper, they seriously helped me recover from my depression and improve my maladjusted self-image. I now even met them twice, the two times that they came to Amsterdam, and they’re wonderful people.

My favourite lyrics still are, and probably always will be; "Stand up f**k tall, don’t let them see your back. Take my f**k hand and never be afraid again." This story was a slight attempt to put into words how much MCR means to me – I still can’t find the right way to say it. But I tried.